Elizabeth Fry eBook

None but a parent whose spiritual life was pure, true,
and deep, could feel such a constant solicitude about
the spiritual progress and education of her family.
Nor was this solicitude confined to the membership
of her own circle. All who in any way assisted
in her special department of philanthropy were councilled,
wisely and kindly, to act rather than preach
the gospel of Christ. In communications of this
sort we find the newly-appointed matrons to the convict-ships
advised to show their faith more by conduct than profession;
to avoid “religious cant;” to be
prudent and circumspect; to have discretion, wisdom
and meekness. So she passed through life; the
faithful friend, the patient, wise mother, the meek,
tender wife, the succorer of all in distress.
Everyone felt free to go to her with their troubles;
a reverse of circumstances, a sick child, a bad servant,
or turn of sickness, all called forth her ready aid,
and her wise, far-seeing judgment. And even in
the last months of her life, when, worn out with service
and pain, she was slowly going down to the gates of
death, her children and grandchildren were cut off
suddenly by scarlet fever, she bowed resignedly to
the Hand which had sent “sorrow upon sorrow.”
And when she who had been as a tower of strength to
all around her, was reduced to the weakness of childhood
by intense suffering, the survivors clung yet more
closely to her, as if they could not let her
go. So as physical strength declined, she actually
grew stronger and brighter in mental and moral power.
The deep and painful tribulations which characterized
her later years, but refined and purified the gold
of her nature.

CHAPTER XIII.

COLLATERAL GOOD WORKS.

It must be remembered that Mrs. Fry’s goodness
was many-sided. Her charity did not expend itself
wholly on prisons and lunatic asylums. It is
right that, once in a while, characters of such superlative
excellence should appear in our midst. Right,
because otherwise the light of charity would grow
dim, the distinguishing graces of Christianity, flat
and selfish, and individual faith be obscured in the
lapse of years, or the follies and fashions of modern
life. Such saints were Elizabeth of Hungary,
around whose name legend and story have gathered,
crowning her memory with beauty; Catherine of Sienna,
who was honored by the whole Christian Church of the
fourteenth century, and canonized for her goodness;
and Sarah Martin, the humble dressmaker of Yarmouth,
who, in later times, has proved how possible it is
to render distinguished service in the cause of humanity
by small and lowly beginnings, ultimately branching
out into unexpected and remarkable ramifications.
One can almost number such saints of modern life on
the fingers; but for all that, their examples have
stimulated a host of lesser lights who still keep
alive the savor of Christianity in our midst; and
towering above all her contemporaries in the grandeur
of her deeds and words, Mrs. Fry still lives in song
and story.